The Sky Cries Frozen Tears
by CaptainTinaRaven
Summary: How can Cartman let go of his ego when it's his only defense? Can he see clear enough to find what true friendship really means? Time changes everything, but friends make those change for the better. Cartman's Pov.


The Sky Cries Frozen Tears 

It gives myself another reason to sit back an enjoy the scenery, even if it's the crappiest of days today. Besides it's getting darker faster that it's suppose to, high winds and freezing rain scatter through the air. Holding a promise and waiting don't go well with me. I'd get more out of leaving and having someone else wait for me all night because I wouldn't walk back here. It would make me so much happier finding the kid frozen to death at this spot the next day. A double sweet for that idea.

The winds pick up a little, sounding like a fucking ghost in a haunted house. Meanwhile, I'm trying to burry myself as close to my overly puffy red coat as I can. Looking at my watch to see what time it was, was more than out of the question. My hands had already glued themselves into my pockets.

Ken's a good kid, he really is. I probably wouldn't bag on him so much if he was… well, normal. Every minute of every day of every week and so on, the only thing on his mind is sex. I know, that's what guys think about most, but it's _all the time_. You can't have a conversation without him mentioning something perverted. Once. You'll start off with how the new episode of Lost ends or how the new Jay-z song sucks, and he'll end the discussion with 'How do octopuses bang each other?'

Besides all that, he's officially the poorest kid in the school. Something happened where his mom lost her job and they had to move into this trailer park towards the end of the city. The place is a dump. A true ghetto. I can sing his theme song and the people around will be proud. All of them. Broke ass, drunken, rednecks with no life. And Kenny's along for the ride. I sometimes wonder how he finds fun with sitting on his porch, staring at air while listening to his parents fight for four hours.

Sometimes I feel bad, sometimes I could care less. It's mostly I could care less. But right at the second, I feel it would be a little bogus to just take off while I was the one who arranged to meet him here. It's not like he needed another problem to worry about.

Why was I meeting with Kenny out in a freezing ice storm? I was hungry. I wanted to go out to eat. My mom has found a new art of loving and is working overtime. She left me money, as always. I'm getting a little sick of finding nothing, but three week old baloney in the fridge and had already lashed out about it. She had been on cloud nine at the time and just smiled and shrugged me off with a, 'That's nice, hon.' Instead of dealing with my problems, just gives me what I want. Which is sweet, half the time. When I was nine it was amazing, but now that I'm almost seventeen, I'm getting sick of talking to an airhead.

I didn't even get to the part of why I was meeting Kenny, did I? Well, going out to eat by yourself is just… boring. I liked it at first too, I really did. Peace and quiet. Not having any hippies to ruin it for me. But you can only take so many years of that. I've been going out for four years now, and just recently started feeling it.

What can I say? I'm a little slow when it comes to 'feelings.' Because, let's face it, I hardly have any. For example, if everyone died tomorrow, I could care less. I could do what I want without anyone telling me what to do. I'm my own company. Of course, not without Clyde Frog. Then, four years will go by and I'll miss everything again. Wouldn't I?

My right toe had just went numb. I know it's from the cold, which pissed me off. It was tingling and felt like little nasty bugs were crawling all around it. Stomping my foot around the ground, trying to destroy the imaginary skin crawlers.

Then, I hear his bubbly laughter from a distance. Him laughing, straight at me. What he was so happy about got me. I'd be miserable if I was a broke piece of shit like him. Wearing his thin little orange jacket with the hood tied tight and an extra brown coat over that. A dark brown glove came from the oversized coat, waving me to 'hello.'

He only wears the extra coat when it's freezing like today. Other days, it's just the thin, ragged hoodie. To tell you the truth, he found that oversized coat out of a dumpster and still wears the orange coat from God knows how long ago. The kid hasn't grown at all. He's been short and skinny his whole life. I wouldn't be able to tell you what changed about his face. Only saw the actually thing about five times, at least.

Why he does it, beats me? Maybe because he looks a little anorexic. A boney, pointy face with still a boyish charm. But I won't get ahead of myself. I, personally, think I'm the best looking out of everyone else. But Kenny's a good second, or maybe third.

He's smiling again. You can tell even with the hood on. Those sky blue eyes sparkle and the little (if any) cheeks he has rise up, causing his bottom eyelids to rise with it. Again, why so happy? You've got me.

"Wow, haven't seen you in awhile," a welcoming voice seeped through the fabric of his hood, which I understood perfectly from the many years of hearing Kenny's personal language. He lifted his hand up to shake and watched his left eye close more than it was suppose to, from the sore, puffy black area around it. Ouch.

"Yeah," I spoke out awkwardly, shaking my foot one last time before getting feeling back to it. "It has been," I stopped there and pretended to look around at nothing really, then continued as I reach for his hand, "awhile." There was a long period of time when everyone just stayed away from me. I seriously hated people. No, they aren't even people. They're hippies. It's not like I hated them. They hated me first. I don't know why? Half the time it's just a joke gone wrong, and obviously hippies can't take jokes very well.

He shrugged those thin shoulders up and let his hand slide back into his pocket. "I was starting to worry," His big blue eyes fell down to his shoes, "Stan had just noticed." His voice went a little quieter, "Not so much Kyle…"

Kyle? Who was Kyle? I had almost forgotten the Jewish shit head. He wasn't really anything, but a mental punching bag for my brilliant Jew jokes. If he hated me, fine. So be it. I hated him too. I hated him even before he hated me, so there's nothing against me. As for Stan, I only know him for the Jew's little emotional follower. I didn't need those hippies anyway.

I shrugged with him, "I could care less." It didn't sound as convincing once it came from my mouth, but I wasn't worried. I really didn't need anybody. I like being alone. I'm a selfish little bastard. I admit it. I take pride in that fact.

We both felt the cold and began on our way. In town wasn't getting any closer by standing there. Plus, I was getting angry because it felt like my stomach was starting to eat itself alive. I get pissed when I don't have my food.

"I know it's none of my business, but" It wasn't. I could tell, and I could tell he could tell. He walked a bit closer to me and finished, "This isn't like you." His eyes watched me, freezing in place like the crystals already formed on his hood, "You've never shut everyone out before." He was serious about this. He didn't even bring anything perverted into this at all, "You even told Butters to go fuck himself, and you usually hang with him."

"Whatever. Go play with your little hippie friends, Stan and Kyle. You like them better anyway," I shoved him off and sped my pace up. He was always with them. Right now, I couldn't even picture him having this conversation with me. If he wants to talk about someone who isn't acting like themselves, he can go look in a mirror. I wanted him to leave. I wanted my dinner alone now. He was starting to act like a hippie too.

"What!?" I heard him say with shock, stopping in mid-step. His eyes wide as he watched my back, that wouldn't be turning around any time soon. I heard his small footsteps speed towards me again, the same second I thought he was going to take off. "Fine. Yeah. I hang with them more, but there are times when I can't stand you!" His blonde brow curved downward, "You are so hard to get along with! You are a complete asshole! You don't have one caring bone in that big body of yours!" He bit at his lip to calm himself down, "Do you understand? That's why I hang with Stan and Kyle. Not because I like them, but they're the people I just, you know, turn to when you're in a pissy mood. And it's hard to be best friends with someone who's in that mood twenty-four/seven!" His hands rubbed, trying to warm his delicate arms and he shook his head, "I'm so humiliated to call you my best friend anymore."

I was still his best friend? I just wanted him to be Stan or Kyle's friend. Then I wouldn't have to go through this fake guilt trip. "Good, because you're not my best friend anymore. I thought we made that clear already," We had gotten rid of our friendship necklaces. I threw mine down a sewer. What he did to his, I have no idea. He pissed me off because he denied he had his. He'd never wore the damn thing anyways. For all I know, he burned it the second he got it.

"Then, why did you want to hang out with me today?" His light eyebrows carved lower on his pure blue eyes, "I thought you were starting to change." His hands gripped the long orange strings of his hood and unlaced them. He carefully took his face from hiding and gave me the most hurt look I've ever seen from him before, "but I guess, I was wrong." I noticed the little silver chain around his neck. A finger plucked it from his skinny neck and held it up to my face. It was his friendship necklace. It wasn't until then I realized he always wore it, but since his hood was never down, no one could see it. He let it fall from his fingers and hit the slushy snow below us. He whispered out very low and extremely shaky, "You're the same selfish asshole, and you'll never change. I don't know why I felt sorry for you."

Hearing his true voice with that much emotion kind of just left me with a chill. I really didn't want to hurt him. He had been by my side for so long when we were littler. I guess, I just wanted to break the bond between us as careful and harmless as possible. I can't change. I'm just me. If I had a choice to be someone else, then it would be different. People screaming at you because of how you act isn't as pleasing the fiftieth time around. Especially when number fifty is a good friend. The last person you wanted it to be.

Well, maybe I do feel sorry. I feel a little bad for the people I joke around with. And maybe those jokes I make go a little too far. But I didn't know Kenny would take it so hard. I thought he was long gone. I thought he already hated me. Why would he wait so long? So long for a friendship that was down the shit hole and back up it?

Another slow reaction. I just understood his last sentence. The whole, he felt sorry for me thing. Why? If that was true, wouldn't it be the other way around? Shouldn't I feel sorry for him because he lives in some run down trailer? He's broke out of his mind and starving each night? I don't understand. That, and he's so happy? Why?

Happy? I have almost everything and more. Why am I not happy?

I finally got my voice back and hardly got a, 'Kenny, I…' before he cut me off.

His finger went straight to my face, "No! I'm sick of this! This is childish bullshit! I don't need this right now!"

I wanted everyone to leave me alone, but I picture myself at the stupid restaurant by myself like all the nights before. Everyone has nice conversations. Everyone happy. So many hippies smiling. It feels like they're happy because I'm sitting there alone.

My knees give out for a second. His voice rushing through my ears and sending signals down to my legs to go numb, as my toe was earlier. My legs could no longer hold my weight and my knees collapsed with the slushy ground. My arms had already found themselves around the skinny little body in front of me.

I felt so angry. But it wasn't towards the hippies. For the first time, I felt like an idiot. The amazing, brilliant me… wasn't. There wasn't anybody I liked more, but myself. Right now, I hated him. He was a good for nothing hippie today. The thing is, I can't avoid him. He's always there.

People. I don't hate them. I want to be left alone, but it isn't me who wants to be left alone. I want everyone to be left alone. I don't want them to go through anymore. I want them to stop screaming, hating, and crying. I can help everyone by leaving myself out of the picture.

Kenny was right. I was shutting everyone out.

"Hey, it's alright," His voice went higher. You would never guess it was the same person. He sounded so different. How could he say that after this whole thing? Why did he care so much? He should hate me right now.

"You've kept all my secrets before, right?" I whispered into his nasty smelling coat. I knew it was true. I don't know why I asked though. I wanted to make sure.

"Yeah, of course," His small hand came to my shoulder and patted there, "Nothing you say will ever be repeated from me." He means it too. He always does.

"I don't want to hurt anyone else. I'm sick of me too," I don't feel that horribly bad. Not enough to have this discussion with him. I think I was overreacting because why should I care about them? Why should I care about some random kids? They hated me, right? But right now, they might have something in common.

I brought myself back up, trying not to make myself out to be a total pussy. Kenny doesn't need to see that shit. I only acted like this a week ago while talking with Clyde Frog, Peter Panda, Rumpertumskin, and Polly Prissypants. They didn't even understand.

"Yeah, well," I stretched, while trying to pretend like nothing happened. I knew very well it did, because my pants were soaked from the knees down, and it was starting to freeze to my legs. I felt myself sinking for a little bit and knew it was time to go. I didn't want him by me anymore, so I gave him a quick smile and tried to lift my hand to say 'Good-bye.'

He just stood there in confusion as the space between us slowly increased. Like I said, he was a good kid. He just doesn't understand what will make everything easier. He's way too forgiving of me. That worries me sometimes.

I let him know it's alright, "Don't feel sorry for me. I rather be by myself anyways." I shrugged once, "I do what I want." Everything started hurting and it felt like my veins were pumping more blood than they could handle. I cleared my throat of it's shakiness, but noticed I failed with that once the words passed me, "And besides, I have no feelings."

My face was cold. Colder than it had been before. It was on my cheeks, the warmest place on my face. I held my hand up and felt the spot. The yellow material of my gloves soaked up a freezing stream of liquid. I looked down at the dark spot of moisture with wide eyes. It couldn't possibly be what I thought it was. Both my gloves came up and wiped at my frozen cheeks. This mysterious water was coming from me. From my own eyes. I was in shock. I just said it. I had no feelings, but I kept wiping this strange liquid away and even more came. I didn't understand.

This has never happened to me before. Sure, I've cried in the past, but I could control it. It was fake tears. And when it wasn't it was from laughing my ass off. I was far from laughing now.

Not understand only made me frustrated. I'm not like all those other hippies. Everything goes my way. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. I could wipe and wipe and wipe and it would still be leaking from my eyes.

Then, I was scared. Kenny was right there watching me. What would he think? He might be laughing on the inside. Laughing so hard that the amazing Eric Cartman was finally broken. Would he just turn around and run to his real friends? Everyone would know by tomorrow. I'd be the laughing stock of the school, until the day I graduate.

The thing was, I couldn't tell what he thought. He just looked confused still. He just stood there. He didn't move or anything. Just how Clyde Frog looks when I tell him stuff. I assumed he thought the worst of me. I could hear all the things he could be saying to me echo from behind. None of it was good. I didn't expect anything to be, not after the things I've said to him. He could call me any number of things, but the real challenge was choosing which one he was going to throw at me first.

That made everything go numb again. It felt like my ears popped and was left with a loud ringing, blocking out anything he could say first. It wasn't like I could hear anything over the pounding heartbeat, beating away at my temples. I was both prepared and unprepared for what he'd say next. And with my high ego that left me, I never felt so fucking vulnerable in my life. I always had that ego to back me up and say, 'They're just jealous. Screw them, you're better than that. Who needs hippies when you are the greatest person alive?'

I saw his mouth move. All the air was instantly forced out of my lungs and I shut my eyes as if it would help me to not hear what was being said. I knew very well you can't listen through your eyes, but I took any kind of protection since my main one had shattered into millions of pieces.

I didn't hear anything for a long while. Staring at the backs my eyelids, it almost felt like I was alone. I wondered if this was a dream, but I didn't want to open my eyes and find out in really was real. I knew it was. I snapped back to reality once I heard his footsteps. Here it was. I couldn't do much else, but stay like I was now.

I felt his fingers come to my cheeks as he carefully wiped the tears away. He had the magic touch that made the small icy rivers stop flowing. With some surprise, his tiny fragile hands caused my cheeks to warm again. Two light fingers brushed a missing strand of hair back to it's place, "Now, that's the Eric I know."

My eyes slowly came out from their hiding place and looked down at his sweet, angelic face. For some reason, he reminds me of the sky. Sometimes it's covered by those gross grimy looking clouds, but once it's uncovered, it could be one of the greatest things in the world. He has the biggest, bluest eyes like the sky. Hair bright and golden as the sun's rays. And a smile that almost glowed. He looked God sent, like Heaven itself.

"Eric you know?" Not only was hearing my first name from his mouth one of the most awkward things in History, but no one's seen me like this before. How would he know this person? This Hippie?

His eyelids relaxed just over those pure blue orbs as he said, "I could tell he was there the whole time. You've just been hiding him away behind all that pride." The back of his hand had surprisingly long nails that lightly grazed at my cheek, "I knew he was there somewhere. Bottled so deep down. The little boy who's been suffering for so long. I want to help him."

It felt a little strange that he was talking to me in third person, but I let it go for now. There were so many other things that confused me at the moment anyway. How Kenny had seen somebody I couldn't even see was weird enough. I put my arms around him, feeling cold again, "Thank-you."

I heard another form of footsteps coming from the opposite direction. They stopped and shifted, almost wanting to turn back around. But they walked closer to me, "Cartman?" It was a boy's voice. Someone I knew, but had forgotten a long time ago.

I let go of Kenny and turned to the boy. Red curly hair and freckles told me it could be no one else, but Kyle. I haven't seen him in a long time. Longer than Kenny. He really did get a lot taller and his voice did change from his regular high squeaky girly girl voice. I have no idea why he was out here.

"What the Hell are you doing?" He asked, demandingly, "It's a fucking ice storm! Do you want to kill yourself?" He folded his arms across his chest with a doubtful look, "Not that anyone would care."

Then, it was as if he took a second look at me. He walked closer and just stared at my face, "Holy crap! Are you okay?!" I think he noticed I had been crying. I didn't know why he would care.

My eyes searched the ground and finally picked the small necklace up, that was close to Kenny's feet. I gave him grim face, only wanting to talk to Kenny right now. I latched the little necklace around my neck and gave him an unwelcoming look, "I'm talking to Kenny, can you just leave me alone!?" My finger pointed to Kenny, but my lack of ego made my voice as shaky as ever.

The Jew looked over at Kenny with a pained look. He looked back at me with that same look, "Cartman…" His hand came up to grab my wrist and tugged me a little, "Kenny can't talk to you." His eyes looked me over and spoke again, "Let's just get you home."

I pulled my hand away from him and went back to Kenny's side, "I can talk to who I want! Don't say that shit around him! He's my best friend! _Mine!_ You and Stan can just leave us alone!" I stuck my finger right through the air in front of the Jew, "You don't give a shit! Why start now!" I couldn't help it. Kyle makes me so mad. I just loose everything when I see that stupid Jewish face of his.

"Calm down," He carefully demanded, while walking a little bit closer. His hand held Kenny's and kept looking at me, "You can be his friend, but you can't talk to him." He said with this confused looking face.

"You can't tell me what to do! He even said he was my best friend! He even said he doesn't like hanging with you and Stan! He told me!" I didn't know why, but I started tearing up in front of the damn Jew now. How dare he say I can't talk to him. He's my friend too.

He pulled on Kenny's arm and forced him out of my reach. One arm went around him and he walked closer to my face with a cold look, "Will you stop it, Cartman! Just stop it!" He was starting to get emotional too. I saw his eyes turn glassy. He gave me a painful look as he placed a hand on my shoulder, "Stop this, dude… I know you're hurt… I know he's your best friend… but you have to keep it together… You can't keep doing this…" He put his arms around me and practically started crying on my shoulder. His arms were still around Kenny, who was now hugging me from behind.

I was confused. What was going on? I'm so frustrated. I haven't talked to this Jew in the longest time, why is he being a little girl on me? Why is he telling me all this stuff about Kenny? My head felt like it was spinning.

"Cartman! Kenny he… he's dead! He's been dead! Stop doing this to yourself! I know he's your best friend, but you can't keep doing this! Everyone said you just needed time, but… I can't keep watching you do this," He let me go and had Kenny's little hand within his. "This isn't Kenny… No matter how much you want it to be, it isn't."

My eyes search down at Kenny. The little Kenny plushy I personally made by hand. I now remember making it that day. Every little stitch. I made his little eyes, every strand of hair. His little smile. His little orange hood you can put on or take off, and even tighten the strings. His little brown gloves that you can slip on and off. Pants, little shoes. You name it, I made it. Even the little bruise on his eye. He was so real. Until someone points it out. It's hard to talk to Kenny. Sometimes it's easier to talk to a doll. You can control what they'll say next.

Then, I noticed. I was the one hanging with Stan and Kyle. I used the plushy to talk to them. They haven't talked to Cartman in ages. They weren't ignoring me. I just haven't been… me. I just want so much for Kenny to be there again. I want him to have a normal life, like all the other kids. Why did he die young? It wasn't fair.

He placed his hand on my back and handed the little Kenny back to me. "We need to get you home. It's too cold to be out here," He took his weird, Jewish hat off from his head and patted it down on mine. He gave me this false smile before trying to get me to walk.

I snatched the Kenny doll away from him and dusted any Jew germs that were on it away. I hugged it close, then felt how warm Kyle's hat actually was. I think I finally understand why he wears the damn thing. I felt his hand gently push my back as he began to walk. I let my feet follow placing my cheek on little Kenny's.

"He's my best friend," I said as our pace became more steadier.

He looked a little shocked that I had even said anything. He gave me a wide smile right after, "I know, Cartman. I know."

-


End file.
